


Spending Mother's Day with Mrs. Parr

by TimedWatcher



Category: Incredibles (Pixar Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2020-05-13 02:04:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimedWatcher/pseuds/TimedWatcher
Summary: A boy is forced to take the virginity of Violet, as her lecherous mother watches on.





	1. Spending Mother's Day with Mrs. Parr

"Mom! I'm going to Violet's!" He waited for that usual response as he ran down the stairs.  
  
No response.  
  
She must have still been at work.  
  
He ran over to the fridge, grabbing a hanging pen. He thought of what to write for a second before popping the top, as he then scribbled something against the mini erase board.  
  
"Went... To... Violet's..."  
  
As he pulled on the plastic leash, springing the pen back, he never figured he'd be the one leaving a note like this. Usually it'd be his mom leaving an explanation on how to cook dinner. 'Yes mom, I know not to burn the house down.' He looked to the stove top despite having already eaten earlier, his focus not on the gauges or knobs.  
  
8:43. Not much time left.  
  
Opening the front, he was about to throw up his hoodie, then stopped short outside the door frame as he didn't hear the sound of water trickling in a pitter patter. Holding out his hand revealed that the rain had stopped awhile ago. The aftermath of the rain leaving only everything it could land on drenched in the recent bout of bad weather going on.  
  
briiiingg  
  
briiiingg  
  
He turned, looking back into the house. If that was his mom calling, she would see the note when she got back and wouldn't freak out over a missed a call.  
  
If she was being reasonable today.  
  
Clicking the lock in the door, he slammed it shut - the sound of the phone growing more and more distant before the only sound that remained was between his shoes and the wet grass. The dark overcast and his unlit backyard did little in preventing him from getting his bike however; the side of the shed was where he usually stashed it, and even though he was sure the roof of the shack would have prevented the rain from touching it, he still swiped a finger over the seat.  
  
Bone dry.  
  
He gripped both handles, steering it as he walked side by side with it, the familiar click of it as he mowed over the moist lawn until he hit the cement path where his mom usually parked the car; that's where and when he took to it. Initially free handing it while pumping the pedals, the downward momentum had him regaining control before he hit the street, turning slightly as he drove towards a curb across the street that brought him up again, before he set his sights on his neighbour's dirt hill. Increasing speeds, he slowed just for a second as he rode off the thing, before bouncing in water that had pooled near a sewer grate, sending it all in an upward splash he narrowly managed to avoid.  
  
He felt like this smile on his face would never go away.  
  
He relaxed, one handing it as he peddled a bit slower. Something seemed different than the times he usually did this for fun, but couldn't figure out why. Then he made it past a three way intersection without having to stop to check, he knew then  
  
No traffic  
  
He had never noticed before how free he felt, to feel like you owned wherever you went. Not to mention that skitter of water his wheels would scare up was strangely satisfying. He wondered why he had never done this more often.  
  
A booming crack came from above, and as he reflexively turned to look up to the sky, a stiff droplet hit him right beneath his right eye, causing him to rapidly blink, as he jammed his foot into the ground, stopping himself dead still.  
  
He could only think back to how he got himself into this mess.  
  
===================  
  
Upturning his knapsack, he let his book bag spill out onto his bed. Books, pencils and weird crumbs of plastic landed all over.  
  
His scattershot approach to finding what he needed in this pile of a mess seemed incomprehensible, but as he pulled and pushed the pieces like a puzzle, it all seemed to come together as he found what he was looking for.  
  
He threw the heavy math book onto its spine, bouncing it open and letting it land before he started flipping it towards page 177, a page that had been bookmarked by his work book.  
  
Trig was killing him, but he needed to finish up for tonight, cause nothing was going to ruin his weekend.  
  
You'd normally think 'come on, some incomplete homework wouldn't hurt anybody', but Mr. Horshbourne liked to mess with the students if they didn't complete the work or hand in everything, and he had one simple method:  
  
He doubled it.  
  
Just the thought of a weekend alone with this stuff made him shudder. Picking up a pencil, that had nearly fallen off the side, he started flipping through the journal, to that muscle memory imprint he had made from previously working on it.  
  
A blank page?  
  
No. He remembered being here and drawing a couple of...  
  
He peeled the pages back, trying to find a page where he knew he had jotted something down before and...  
  
It was wrong - all wrong.  
  
Not the answers, mind you. "Show your work" as they say, and this wasn't his work at all. The circles were too round, the r's looked like r's, and there wasn't that half baked attempt to erase his errors. He feared the answer as he closed the ledger, his eyes working down from the top of it where it said "exercise book".  
  
Name: Violet Parr  
  
He gave himself a stiff smack with the thing... great.  
  
===================  
  
Throwing down his bike with total disregard, he felt like a criminal running up to the house, hoodie sunken in to his head, as he clutched at his sides, head hanging low, he stared at the floor mat beneath his feet, lifting a foot to see the large text reading PARR, the showering drizzle on the steps and driveway sounding like hail as the droplets smattered in echos on the tin gutters.  
  
Knocking on the right red wood door repeatedly, he only stopped when his knuckles started radiating pain. He didn't wait long before he reached and tapped again - but stopped when he heard movement from behind it, he relaxed when he heard the sound of a lock being manipulated.  
  
The left door opened and the first thing he could see was a warm orange glow, as the other side swung open. She stood before him in a coffee stained button up, a very confused look on her face. He remembered seeing her once before, that same chestnut brown haircut as she was seeing Violet off before they walked to school together. "M-Mrs. Parr... is Violet home? I have-"  
  
"Dear, I think it'd be best if you came inside." He looked up to her, then quickly away, trying to avert his eyes, while also shaking his head. He didn't need a second mom. "I don't bite, you know. Trust me, I'm doing this more for my sake, cause I know Violet would never forgive me for making her new boyfriend sick."  
  
He gulped down whatever misgivings he had after a pause. "Okay." He said blankly, waiting for the invitation as she moved to allow him in. As he stepped inside, he briefly looked up to her. The house wasn't the only thing beaming warmth his way, as she gave him a welcoming smile.  
  
He had to physically move back when she turned towards the door. He tried not to stare too hard. Before he could take another step, there was a sudden yank from behind. He froze as he could feel her squeeze the material until some of the water ran loose. "You're as soaked as the day you were born." What?  
  
Oh... she was right. He could feel it down to his toes, as the wrinkled skin writhed against the wet - but not quite cold or warm - sog, that now inhabited his sock and shoe after he had stepped in a puddle that was deeper than he realised. 'If he was making a mess, it was her fault for bringing him inside in the first place' he thought.  
  
Then the words he never thought he'd hear inside of a girl's house came  
  
"We need to get you out of those clothes."  
  
===================  
  
"I'll just be a sec, hun."  
  
He tossed the soggy sweater down in a slump against the linoleum floor, as he slipped on the cotton white shirt that seemed a tad too small. He waited a second before leaning suspiciously over the hole in the wall of the kitchen, trying to see where the older woman had gone - with the wooden floor reflecting very little light down the hallway.  
  
Hopefully she wouldn't be long in getting Violet.  
  
He pulled up a chair; one of those kinds of kitchen chairs that was more of a pain in the ass to sit in than his school's desk chair, before lifting up one of his feet and peeling off the slimy, almost bonded to his skin, socks.  
  
Repeating the action again, and now with the both of them off, he rolled them together into a ball along with his sweater before dunking them into a garbage bag Mrs. Parr provided, then picking up the dry clothes he was given.  
  
Hun? Honey? Not even his mom called him that.  
  
Not even Violet called him that...  
  
She had suggested to meet her in the living room when he was done changing - he obliged, but only because she asked. It was weird to walk freely in a stranger's home, seeing shadowed photos of faces of family members he hadn't met, and yeah, Violet may have been his girlfriend, but it's not like he knew her mom real well or even their dad or whatever. He was all so new to this and just didn't want to make an ass out of himself--but that may be too late already.  
  
Right, he'd do better. He'd talk about something, he'd introduce himself properly... did she even know his name? Well duh, Violet would have told her by now... right?  
  
He peaked his head out from the corner with no sign of Mrs. Parr. Almost on the tips of his toes, he crept over to the single seater, falling into it with a surprising amount of bounce and body room. This thing was obviously made for somebody huge. He settled finally, folding his hands in his lap as he seemed to count the seconds, sometimes losing track out of boredom more than anything.  
  
bang  
  
It wasn't a loud door slam, but just the suddenness of it raised his hackles. He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard heavy, determined clicks coming down the hallway. He knew it wasn't Violet; she was like a ghost sometimes. As they grew louder and louder, he watched from the corner of his eye for the exact moment she'd appear.  
  
It didn't take long.  
  
The silhouette of her body clearly revealing that she had changed into a different outfit that he couldn't make out. She continued unabated past him, and once he got a better look at her, he had a hard time stopping. Now sporting a crimson dress and a drink in her hand, she wasn't anything like the woman he had met at the front door, but she seemed to be having a bit of trouble walking, as her outfit was looking a little too tight... not that he was complaining. She had a bit of an exaggerated swing in her step that looked like a swagger, which seemed to stem naturally from the width of her hips, which could either be awkward or sexy, depending on your point of view. This came to ahead as the older woman stumbled forward in her red heels. He rose hoping to help, but she had already caught herself. She stood slightly askew, hand above her chest. She seemed a little relieved. He was too as he took his seat again.  
  
As he had just sit down, she had made her way to a chair across from him, but she didn't sit down right away. He had to physically cover his mouth with his hand, unable to believe the sight across from him. He could feel his body tighten - and it felt like time was slowing down as she had bent over to pat down the couch. Before, he couldn't believe that a mother could look so good in tight yoga pants, but now... the way her red dress hugged against her behind reminded him of a... heart... a big swaying heart he wanted to...  
  
He had to stop staring.  
  
He couldn't stop staring.  
  
Finally, he just closed his eyes, and his beating chest and the burning feeling in his body began to soothe itself. He was just hoping she hadn't noticed, and like she had just read his mind, she turned her head over her shoulder with a knowing wink and nod.  
  
He swallowed.  
  
"Do you have a father?"  
  
"Yeah... but he only comes around a few times a month."  
  
"Oh... so it's just you and your mother..." Even in her altered state, he could sense a regretful emotion overtake her features. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to..."  
  
He tried to wave it off. "It's alright, Mrs. Parr."  
  
"Please... call me Helen. I'm not a Mrs. anymore anyway."  
  
He weakly smiled, responding as if he knew his cue. "Sorry Mrs. Helen..." He sat like an idiot only for a microsecond before he realised what he had done. "I mean!-"  
  
She giggled. "It's quite alright, dear. I like when a boy is nervous around me." He didn't know how to respond to that other than looking away with a bashful shrug. She continued her questioning. "What's your mother like?"  
  
Is there a good response to that question? "She's my mom..." He struggled to find the words. "I don't really see her cause she works a lot." He reached for the back of his neck. "For the most part she comes home after I've already eaten, prepares a meal for tomorrow, then goes up to her room." He hated admitting he didn't know much about her.  
  
"Being a mother can be so unrewarding when you don't have someone rushing home in anticipation of seeing you again..." He just wished that somebody was home, but the slurring of her words was starting to make him crack. "She might have a cold exterior, but like any mother there's got to be a warm and compassionate side to her. A side that only a mother could show."  
  
He stared into the palm of his hand, as if he had something, but it seemed to have fluttered away. "I remember she said she was proud of me once, but I don't even remember why. Proud of what exactly? I'm not straight A student material..."  
  
Something glinted in her eye. "Look at ya. You're a healthy and good lookin' boy. I can see why my Violet spends so much time with you..." Resting her drink, her meaty thighs pressed together before turning them away from him before he could see what was between them. For a brief moment, she was like picturesque vision of a 50's house wife. Holding onto the bottom of her dress, it was like she read his mind -- or more accurately, where his eyes had wandered; he put them into his lap, as he heard her striding over. "She could just find you... intimidating."  
  
"Intimidating? Me?" He raised his head to meet her, but the only one intimidated here was him when she was leaning right down next to him on the arm rest, the acrid smell of fruity perfume lining his esophagus.  
  
"Sure. Imagine having a spry and handsome young man like yourself literally aching through his puberty living in the same house." Now his face wasn't the only one that was red. He wasn't sure if it was what she was drinking or... "Oh, I honestly couldn't imagine. I'm so glad my Dash is with his father..." His right leg began shaking, as Helen seemed lost in thought. "Do you find her attractive?"  
  
The question caught him off guard. "What? No." He tried to play it off, but it was an awkward situation made even worse. "She's my mom. I could never find her attractive." He wondered if that was a rude thing to say.  
  
Her knuckles brushed against his cheek. "Do you find me attractive?"  
  
He looked away. "Oh, because she's your mother you can't think of her that way. Well I'm not your mother, now am I?" In that split second, everything changed, as she cupped him below the belt. He sat, staring into her eyes for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening. That's when she went for the kiss. His tightened shoulders slumped a bit. He had no idea what he was doing. Violet and him traded some pecks or light smooches, but this was a full on enveloping grown up kiss, his mouth moving with hers. He tasted something strange in her breath--it was strong and sour, he knew whatever it was, it had to be from that light brown drink in that fancy glass she was holding before, and he thought he would hate it, but there was something about it that made the older woman's mouth... warmer. The back of her hand pressed to the back of his head, pulling him in further, as he ultimately reciprocated, almost wilting into her as he pressed back into her invitingly full lips. She broke away, still holding onto him, her voice breathy. "That's the great part about this kiddo... you can be as honest with how you feel about her, with me."  
  
That made things weird again.  
  
He jumped up. He needed to run. He needed to find Violet. He needed to go home.  
  
Yet he didn't make it far.  
  
Like a coyote, his legs were kicking the air. He didn't feel like he was floating though, it felt more like he was on a track at an airport, slowly moving back and towards Violet's mother. Before he knew what was happening, he was lightly placed back into the chair. The boy nearly choked, as he looked down to see that she had entangled her arm around him like a comically oversized rope. It didn't take a genius to know who she was now. "Y-you're Elastigirl."  
  
Climbing atop him, her body latched onto him, as her weighty bottom ground against his growth. "Would you prefer I wore the costume?" She delivered in a hushed whisper against his neck. A flash image of her curvy body in that constrictive spandex. He just shook his head no. He couldn't be thinking like that. He... liked Violet.  
  
Damn it. He couldn't even admit it in his own head.  
  
Violet's mom wasn't the demure woman out of time he imagined her to be just a moment ago -- she was instead a high school sex kitten of fully matured proportions that he could only ever dream about. As the heavy petting resumed, her hand finding its way down his pants now, a devilish visage forming as she took a handful of him. "Ah... there you are." She said with a semi stroke. "Get nice and big for mama."  
  
That was it... he had reached the zenith of the attraction he could have for her in his loins.  
  
He was hers.  
  
"Do you still want this?" Her voice came only slightly audible below a whisper - as if she didn't want him to hear it.  
  
He left her without doubt, meeting her hershey colored gaze head on for the first time without breaking, totally entranced. She giggled with a pur, her teeth lightly tugging his ear in a playful manner. "I think you could hold me up with it if you really wanted..." Maybe that was true - he felt like steel down there, in a way Violet never could wrestle out of him like Helen just did, leaving him outside of his underwear.  
  
She unrestricted herself from both him and the seat, no longer fearful of him running, and he wasn't going to. They kissed again, more open mouthed this time, as his hands roamed her body for only a second before taking a stranglehold of her ass, hugging her like he was a waist high child who missed his mother, one hand fully clasped on one side and the other a bit more loose, with his fingers draping down past the hem of her dress and into her thigh, grinding his palms into her firm globes, squeezing like he actually could make an imprint, loving the feeling of her body. As he explored, he could feel more and more of the dress starting to slip up, and his hands kept expecting to find a pair of lacey black underwear or something, instead, he found the smooth texture of her ass. Splitting them apart, she moaned into his mouth and he imagined what was between those cheeks--but if she wasn't wearing underwear, didn't that mean...  
  
It was like she knew him like her own son, as her knees slowly swung open for him, her hands on her thighs running against them as if teasing him just that little hint more. His eyes nearly left his head; appealing brown tufts of hair nested above her glistening pink pussy lips that she now spread out to him. He humped at the air, and as he did, he could feel the heat radiating from her as she was about to make contact with him, but she suddenly stopped lowering herself. "You know... I'm not on anything at the moment, so if you came inside me..."  
  
He gave the dumbest, loudest, caveman 'Huh?' in the world, his mind elsewhere.  
  
"The baby... will you help me raise our child..."  
  
He had... some idea of what she was saying now, but god, he needed this. He tried to stab upwards, but she was just out of reach - she had moved back. "Please Violet's Mo-... Helen. Please"  
  
"Ah ah ah... you know what I need you to say." Any drunkenness he could blame instead of her evaporated. She was serious...  
  
"Yes! Of course! Of course I'll take care of it!" He really would have said anything in that instant. Why couldn't it be a realistic request? Like mowing her lawn every week...  
  
She let him find his way, and any complaints he had melted away as soon as his head grazed against her most sensitive of areas. Wrapping himself around her middle, he jackhammered any way he could, spending himself quickly, excited about wanting to do the one thing Violet never let him. Her insides felt like heaven.  
  
She strained, pulling down at her top, her cleavage becoming more and more... open, but not yet exposed, biting her lip as she did, lids lowering, losing focus on him, seemingly forgetting that he was even in the room for a moment even despite being inside of her; her melons like on a rope bridge that couldn't stop rocking back and forth, as he watched where the shoulder met the pit become taut, anticipating their escape.  
  
They jiggled loose and free in front of him; her chest was large, natural and tear drop shaped; not the least bit sagging, and if they were, it added to the appeal of her size, and didn't detract. Her areolas pepperoni sized and nearly invisibly pink.  
  
He felt parched.  
  
He rolled his face over them, latching onto the nubs with his lip or teeth, pawing at the other breast while her body rode up and down, each bounce making a fwapping noise. "Would your Violet let you do this?" She asked in a husky, excited breath.  
  
"Never." He said between mouthfuls and suckles of her teet. Helen found great humor in that, the back of her dainty wrist attempting to stifle her laugh, her head whipping back in delight. He wasn't sure what was funny about that, but... maybe she knew about her habits and how she treated him. Violet could be so hot and cold with him, either she wanted to be as close to him as two humans can comfortably get, or she'd start pushing him away - sometimes literally, leaving him until the end of the day before she'd hold his hand on the way home from school to confirm they weren't broken up. Violet's mom was so different, so direct; it was nice to be appreciated for a change. He wasn't sure at first, but now? He wanted to be here, wishing to live between her legs... or her chest... or her ass...  
  
There was one thing he did know: Helen Parr was the perfect woman.  
  
"Mom! What are you doing!?" Everything stopped, even that pleasure that she seemed to be giving him numbed as Violet's mom was like a statue, relaxing against him. "Get off!"  
  
"I am..." He couldn't believe how cold that sounded coming from her - as if completely ignoring her young daughter's pleas.  
  
Violet reacted with disgust. "You always do this mom! First it was Tony - now him!? God!" Tony? Tony who?  
  
Helen almost seemed to chide her daughter. "Ah, ah, ah... knowing the cock size of the boy you're gonna marry is very important..."  
  
"Mom I'm not going to marry him just because of his... COCK size." He wasn't sure if she was embarrassed about having to acknowledge what her mother just said or just saying the word 'cock'.  
  
"Awww, you don't want to marry him?" The mother looked down at the boy with a drunken hunger in her eyes - stroking a hand over his head. "Maybe I'll just have to be the one to do the honors..." He tried to accept her inviting look, but with Violet off in his periphery, he found it hard to do.  
  
Then everything blurred.  
  
An unseen force caused the mother to hurtle away from him. He watched her land in a heap on the floor, laying completely motionless except for her dress which looked like it was about to snap off, reminding him of a tanning woman on a beach, her bubble butt standing out and apart from her body; the volumetric space her ass took up alone while just aimed at the ceiling had him running calculations in his mind.  
  
Violet then tugged him out of his gawking, as she pulled him up and off the love nest he had been perched in. "You need to get out of here." He stared slackjawed towards Vi, his pants halfway around his ankles, whose face read of a serious, urging fear. "Hurry!"  
  
Like a fear for his safety.  
  
Before he had even an inkling of what to say or do next, Violet was pulled - almost violently - by the nape of her neck away from him.  
  
So then was he.  
  
The older woman tossed him around like a well experienced python, placing him a top a love seat -- right between the legs of Violet. He tried to scramble away, and so did she - two teenagers too embarrassed to even be thinking of something like this together, yet for him, it wasn't just that. He saw that look in her eyes now, a sense of uncertainty and trauma she might associate with him and his naked presence. It was something he wanted to prevent.  
  
Yet the matriarch wasn't having it, as her head corkscrewed above them -- a tent of flesh surrounding them, restraining them -- tight like a knot, feeling like the rubber wrap for needles around their arms and legs. Violet struggled against her human bondage, looking like she was doing aerobics with every attempt, her slim stomach pushing up with futility. "So. Violet, honey. You don't want me screwing your boyfriend? Then I want to see you make him go home happy."  
  
"Mom..."  
  
"He's not going home empty handed. Got that, Vi?" Helen stripped the poor girl of her underwear, the plad skirt acting like a flap and being the only thing that separated him from seeing her young flower. Helen's spidery fingers worked back the frock, as Violet looked understandably shocked. Her wide eyed expression searching for a way out, and he wished she could look at him with confidence that he wasn't going to do anything... god, her eyes. How could she try and hide those beautiful, large and expressive eyes from the world behind those dark curtains? He knew it was the draw that lead him to her.  
  
Now it was the straw that was gonna break him.  
  
He had softened in the interim, but not for long, as just looking at her got him going again. She was completely hairless, smooth and the slit was closed together and virginal, almost puffy, and not at all exposed like her moms. Clambering up, he covered her lower half, bowing down to those tiny mosquito bites with the same color of her mothers, offering them timid licks at first, then sucking on them like when Violet gave him a hickey. "Stop..." He felt her weak slaps against the back of his neck, and he closed his eyes and pretended she was... there was nothing he could pretend it was.  
  
His hips prodded the poor girl fruitlessly. Maybe that good part of himself was intentionally trying not to enter Violet? "Well aren't you just the eager little beaver? Don't worry, I've seen this before..." He felt her hand on his shaft again, guiding him properly. "Let mama handle this..." As if searching for a wedding ring down a sink, her expression changed as soon as they touched. He did what came natural and moved to penetrate Violet. She tried to skitter back from him, but despite her best efforts, her mother kept her in place. Helen looked down at him with a smirk, and despite what he had done with Mrs. Parr, this felt like his real first time, but under the spotlight, he felt... nervous.  
  
"Please. You don't have to do this."  
  
"But I want to..." He pierced Violet.  
  
Violet writhed under him with a whine as he steered into her. Once docked, he started sawing; his movements slow and impactful. Violet's head would hiccup in tandem everytime he thrusted, still with that same, open mouthed, shock/surprise she had when he first started, but Violet's focus turned from him and back to her mother, as they locked eyes with one another, Helen now caressing the young girls flush face. "It only hurts the first time, Violet." Which did little to comfort her, as Violet tried to regain her breath.  
  
The boy was now moving in a way he never thought he'd move, his spastic thrusts colliding with the young girls inner walls so hard that he was hurting her, signified by the tears that would roll down as he slammed into her. He wanted to stop... no, he was lying, he couldn't stop himself even if he wanted. He tried to concentrate only on Violet, but she was always there; Helen peered over them like some demented and lustful jack in the box, her tongue curled up near her nostril, enjoying every second of watching her young daughter getting fucked. Mrs. Parr had jammed her fingers deep between her legs, shlicking her folds with absolute fury, sometimes inserting them or rubbing her pussy mound clockwise, seemingly trying to find the balance between her own world and keeping up with the action.  
  
But maybe just her hand wasn't good enough...  
  
"Mind if I cut in you two?" Her hamhock of a thigh passed them both, coming down with such weight that he half expected its landing to be thunderous like the weather outside when it landed. She sat and smothered Violet, and he genuinely was worried that Helen would suffocate her, and her daughter agreed, as Violet's child-like hands drummed against the cheeks of Helen - but what was he supposed to do? Say 'Get off my girlfriends face while I fuck her in peace!' Not that he would, as he didn't actually have a problem with Helen essentially mooning him, and he kinda wanted to rest his face on it...  
  
While riding her daughters face, Helen turned to him, her sideboob, chin and face in profile. "Would you mind?" She then gaped herself open for him - and it was just like he imagined: The cigarette burn shaped hole was pink and inviting, dark tissue between two pale globes, as the ridge shaped opening looked like it swallowed for air. He dove deep into it; the smell of the surrounding skin was intense, but not overpowering. The taste of the pink orifice was earthy, but not disgusting, as it flexed like a powerful muscle around his tongue; he breathed in even deeper, nearly collapsing.  
  
Relishing in Mrs. Parr's ass didn't fully distract him, as this was the second opportunity today in which he had the chance to seed the luscious field of a Parr family girl, but the talk earlier had him wary, and he was wanting to do it on Violet's smooth belly... but he just couldn't pull himself out to make it actually happen. As soon as his tongue lapsed and he pulled away to finish with Violet, Helen's head zig zagged back and around, coming back towards him in stopping paces, headbutting his stomach and out of Violet. "As much as I'd like to see it--I just can't let you cum inside my daughter."  
  
He was about to complain when Helen vacuumed him in. He thought he devoured her ass, but she took him to the hilt. He held her chestnut brown hair and head to his groin as tightly as he held her ass. On one hand, it kind of freaked him out how detatched it felt... on the other, it was a hungry, warm, mouth, with a swirling tongue and nice red lips wanting his release. On top of all her slurping, she was licking the underside of his scrote. He didn't last long and sprayed deep down her throat. He let go finally, tired, as she floated her head up to eye level. She then opened her lips, revealing sticky cob webs that stuck to the roof of her mouth and broke apart, as she gave a thorough swish of her tongue around each side of the white substance before ingesting it. "That's quite the build up you had there."  
  
Then clarity hit him:  
  
Vi was teary eyed mess. Miss Parr was an elongated demon out for semen. And he...  
  
He wasn't sure what to think.  
  
===================  
  
More homework and a bad grade.  
  
That's what he got for napping during Mr. Horshbourne's class. There was no attempt to make up some excuse, he just apologized and took it. How could you even start THAT conversation - even if he wanted to?  
  
The sun beat him down like he owed it milk money as he pushed open the double doors and stepped out onto the quad, walking over to those newly installed dining tables that were socketed into the ground, passing friends and well wishers, everyone just as white as he was (thank god)  
  
Violet was already eating by herself, or at least picking at it, part of her palm pressed into her face. His hands found their way into his pockets as he kicked the turf. "So... things got weird last night, huh?"  
  
"H'ooooh yeaaaah..." The delivery was shaky, but the message was clear: Besides her mom, he was the last person she wanted to chat with.  
  
If he didn't keep talking, this was going to go nowhere fast. "Come on, Violet..."  
  
"There's nothing I can say, okay? You're gonna leave me, just like Tony did..." Ah, the classic curt Violet. He knew that response.  
  
He folded his arms. "You've got to give me more credit than that; we both went through it together, right?"  
  
An eye of hers met him through her hair. "Yeah..."  
  
"Then you know I cheated, I know you cheated - no biggy - water under the bridge - so you know..." He wiped the back of his head. "We should... do something after school..." He almost left it at that, but jumped back in with an addendum. "Not at your house."  
  
She was leaving him hanging again, but he was willing to wait this time. "Sure." He snapped his finger her way while confirming it with an 'alright'.  
  
Despite what happened, sticking with Violet seemed like the right thing to do  
  
After all, she'll probably start looking like Helen in a few years...


	2. Spending Christmas Eve with Mrs. Parr

The squire station wagon door clunked shut over the sound of the engine, his vision still trailing Helen as she walked up the recently shoveled driveway of a strangers home, but Helen disappeared behind the face of Violet, who was in a blue pair of earmuffs instead of her usual headband and had an expectant look. They cuddled for warmth, their heartbeats muffled by winter jackets, and sure, the car already had hot air ventilating, but what was better than getting it from someone you loved? 

The first moment him and Violet had alone together, and he was still nervous. "Are you sure about this?" 

"Sure I'm sure. She isn't going to bother you, I promise." It's not just her that he was worried about...

"What about your dad? Is he still okay with this?"

"Mom was a lock." Her head fell back, her irises slicing across her lids towards him again. "Obviously." She continued. "But there was no way I was gonna convince him to let you go... but mom... I kinda, sorta, got her to... guilt dad into letting you come."

"What?" His shock was palpable. 'Oh no, he's really gonna hate me.' was his first thought. Then he thought about he had done with both Parr women; 'oh no, he's gonna kill me.'

She patted down his shoulder. "Don't worry about it." Then her finger snapped in the air. "Hey, maybe he'll react like your mom."

That got an 'are you serious?' reaction from him. "Are you kidding? When she saw you for the first time, she practically wanted to shove me into your arms and have us elope."

"Yeah, why was she so pushy?" Violet's lips pouted and her eyes squinty.

He side glanced her with a smug look. "I think she wants grand kids. Her grandparents were about our age when they started..."

It looked like the floor opened beneath her, displaying that same expression he had just a couple moments ago. "Uh, well... she's gonna have tuh, uh... look... elsewhere..."

A single finger lowered like a draw bridge, as he inched it towards her, connecting with her chin. It didn't take much effort to get Violet to turn his way, her neck like a dolls, as he put on his most appealing face before planting a light kiss. 

He was happy to see her blush.

Both passenger doors to their right opened, and their bodies, on reflex, drew a line between them to keep a distance. Helen was back, and with her, were her two sons. "Hey Vi. Hey Tony Two." Her eldest brother threw that out casually while one handing a bag of his stuff over the seat and into the boot like it was a basketball.

What the- "My names not-"

He gave an eschewing wave as he sat back down. "No, don't tell me. No point in learning it now when Vi'll break up with you pretty soon."

"Shut up, dork!" She started slapping the hell out of Dash, and Dash slapped right back. He could only sit back watching the sibling rivalry unfold. What was the procedure here? He felt like Dash was at that cutoff point where hitting him would just be cruel... but he was hitting Violet... but she was hitting him right back. Honestly, it seemed better to leave it, even if it made things awkward.

"Dash." Helen interrupted their scuffle. She then turned her head with slow, calculated precision to her daughter. "Violet." She didn't yell or curse, addressing them politely in her Georgian twang. "Which one of you wants to sit up here between me and your father?"

Silence.

Whoa.

With buckled seats and the five of them in the car, he looked ahead over the green mint interior to the empty drivers seat. That just left... you know who.

He had seen pictures of Violet's father on the wall at their house before, but seeing him for real... he was not to scale. He'd probably be scared of any girls father, but this guy... the man was unreal, like Kong made human. He opened and closed the trunk, placing a suitcase, before sidling up to the car door - but he paused, as if readying himself for something, then he opened the door and took his time in getting in, yet even still, the car jostled, dipping like they were about to sink into the earth, only to return to normal a second later.    

Violet's father gave Helen a knowing look, surveying those in the back, except for the interloper that he was there. Which made sense, as he was trying to physically make himself scarce; his breathing slowed and eyeline static. He let out a sigh of relief as soon as Vi's dads attention turned back to the wheel, the car finally moving again.

The scent of lead filled gasoline proclaimed itself at every stop they made, as the city kept getting smaller and smaller in the rearview, his familiar suburbs faded long ago as they took the interstate out of town. This had been the farthest he had ever been away from it, but any anxiety about the driver or where they were headed was extinguished by the hand that held his.

His forehead found further comfort in the cold of the window, as he watched the countryside, seeing still bits of green that hadn't been covered yet. He breathed, his finger then squeaking against the window. He nudged Violet as he leaned into his seat, pointing; their names with a heart around them and a + between them. She nudged right back with a raised eyebrow, but moved closer to him.

Before he could even think about taking a nap, they pulled onto an icy dirt path, passing cottonwoods and firs, bumping up him and Violet. As he steadied himself, it was then he could see their destination: The Parr family home away from home. It seemed to have started as a single story, but a later addition adding a second, as it looked unnatural, with support beams underneath it, jutting from the first.

They parked in front of a nearly buried, wooden curb, as they all climbed out - he made sure Violet wouldn't slip on anything, offering her a hand that she took, as he lined up for a pair of paper bags, the supplies needed to survive out here as long as they'd be staying. When he saw Violet taking two, he took six, as well as his backpack with a change of clothes. He watched Violet's dad reach in, resulting in a bit of a slouch, but he carried eight of them.

In each arm.

In the middle of nowhere and this nice lookin' place, carrying all this food - it kind of felt like he was rich people camping. He spied gifts in a couple of the bags, a little envious that none were addressed to him - but he was sure nothing could compare to the present he was going to unwrap early, the girl walking to his left.

The twenty fourth... he wish he could have stayed longer than two days.

At the ruby red front door, he watched Vi's father set them all down, creating a brown bag moat around himself, as Mr. Parr picked up one of the Binford bags and pulled out a log with the company logo on it. "I'll go start the furnace." He presumed he was going to the shed with the smoke stack sticking out of it that he saw earlier.

His teeth kept trying to chatter, and he kept having to mentally check himself everytime to stop it from happening, as everytime he did, something clinked in these bags. He tried to recall what it might have been, as he remembered the shopping they did, acting as Miss Parr's little commando, helping secure everything they needed. Despite everything, he still had his manners and wanted to leave a good impression.

"Cold?" Was the only word from Helen, as she stood at his back, hovering; placing a mitt covered hand on his shoulder. He affixed himself forward to the door, not wanting to see Violet's reaction... or maybe that would make things worse. Before he could make a decision, Bob re-emerged, pulling out a set of keys. They almost huddled around him, wanting the door to be open soon.

They piled in one at a time, as Bob went out for the bags he left behind. He watched them take off their boots at the door, and he did likewise; using the stair railing, which lead up to a landing and another set of stairs that lead up to their bedrooms, as leverage. As soon as he set his foot down, a chilling feeling of the floors that hadn't quite warmed yet swept through him. Nothing was even tepid, still able to see his breath. 

A light was clicked on, and the stained, polished, wood, reflected it, and gave the interior an orangey hued look. Helen sorted through bags, giving her kids and him the food, as Dash and Violet gave him advice on where to put the dry and canned goods. In the middle of stuffing the cupboards or clacking the latch on the fridge door to put a perishable in it, things began to thaw, and there was a point where he had to get his jacket off or he'd incinerate, going to hang it above the shoes, then returning to help again, spying that it was the gift bags that the parents were currently rustling through.

With the groceries out of the way, he placed his backpack in the corner, beside a bookcase and a few paces from the fire place in front of the three-seater where he'd be staying. When Bob told him he'd get the couch, he could only reply 'fair enough' (actually, he didn't even do that.) His only convenience being that the bathroom was right around the corner, in an alcove near the kitchen - but he still kinda hated where he was situated, feeling like his neckline was exposed at all times. 

He sat for an hour or so, as they seemed to run around a lot, putting things away or asking eachother where things were, family squabbling he wasn't privy to or that he really understood. There was something about an attic and 'if it was still up there'. For all he knew, there was a mutant they kept fed up that staircase they pulled down by the cord, but he wasn't going to go snoopin' around. He was a guest.

His fist rested above his chin, looking like he was eternally punching his own teeth out, as Violet leaped over, bringing him out of his doldrums with a nuzzle. "You haven't been eying up my mom when I'm not looking, have you?" ... what? Where did that come from? He vocalized that thought, both of them speaking in hushed tones. "My mom and dad... I think they're gonna get back together, so I don't want you messing it up."

He turtled into that ring around his neck. "So why invite me? You know how she can be around me."

"Because it'd be lame without you? Spending Christmas alone with my family... could you imagine?" She turned into her hair, blowing some of it up with air to push it away from her face.

He didn't want to belittle her problem, but... "I'm sure you've done it before and I'm sure you'll do it again." Only after he said did he realise how it came out. 

Violet looked hurt, but thankfully, only the playful kind. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Before he could explain, a tired sounding Bob made an announcement, standing in front of the entryway. "Okay everybody, it's time to go out and get a Christmas tree." 

"Yes!" Dash announced, running his dad's way as he picked up his coat and tied his scarf.

"Already Bob?... Alright. You kids coming?" Helen looked at them as she folded out both her collars. They weren't exactly rushing to get up.

"Actually mom, I need to take a shower. Just look at my hair." Dash made a smooching face behind his parents back directed at Violet, but he still felt insulted by it - Violet flinched at her brother of course, but ultimately held herself back. She then looked to him, expecting him to come up with the greatest lie or excuse he could muster.

"And I... need to get settled in. Look around. I still feel uncomfortable in a strangers home - or else I'll be up all night." Well, it was semi-true.

Bob turned to Violet, then to Helen. "This is a family thing--and also the boy there." The mountain sized man sounded flustered when he threw him into the equation. 

Helen spoke in a way that reminded him of Violet, something in the sway of her face... "Bob, we don't need five people to go and find a tree. Besides, Violet can check up on JJ if he wakes up."

His strongjawed seething was palpable.

The front door slammed shut.

Now they were in the cabin. Alone. "Was that intentional? Is she that cool?"

"She can be cool when she wants to be." Violet then invited him to chase her up the stairs, which he did, jokingly swatting at her; one of the few times he heard her gaily guffawing. His fixation on her only breaking when he looked up at the crevice of the attic. Down the hall and to the right, past two doors and to the final one, as she threw it open.

She was already sitting on the edge of her bed, tapping a quilt on the the space beside herself, but as soon as he sat down, she threw him a curveball. "So what'd you get me?"

"Uuuuh..." He scratched the side of his head.

She bumped him above his heart. "I'm kidding."

"Oh..." His voice trailed, his eyes not far behind.

"It was a joke, come on." Her voice was a mixture of sweetness and concern, a seldom sight.

"It's just that... maybe I shoulda brought somethin', I don't know..." He shrugged, non-committal to it.

"I'm your present." She pulled out her headband, her hair falling out of place, as she threw it with abandon, now turning to him with laser focus. "And you're mine."

He felt like an idiot, and wanted to barb her back for it. "You're such a twig, Violet."

Violet took offense at that. "What's wrong with that?"

He was quick to stand, wanting to do damage control. "Nothing, nothing - but look what I can do." He wrapped around her middle, springing her up without any help from her; holding her nearly to the ceiling. Then something seemed to take over, he could see it in her eyes and she could see it in his, as their clothes made a swiping noise as she slid down in his arms, her hands entagling, yanking them into a kiss, which he had to work at staying up for, almost too weak kneed to carry her now, as she raked the back of his head just so that she could reach the end of his mouth with her tongue. 

He liked when she tried to eat his face.

He knew Violet and she knew him, as he let go, so did she, and both of them began to strip. He flipped his turtleneck over his head, the arms now acting like cuffs on his hands, unable to look away from Violet showing off her cute little ass as she bent, moving lithely out of her pants, now standing in white, rainbow polka dotted panties, that clung snugly to her form; her naked back almost as exciting as what was on the other side, as she turned, cinching up the elastic, her budding chest pointed, nipples puffy. He could only stupidly grin when she saw him still clothed, as she let her last shred of clothing fall to her ankles. 

Violet hopped into bed on all fours, catching a full moon of her firm bum before she dropped, now inviting him with a 'come hither', her dainty fingers motioning like water. His trousers were soon off, and he fell forward in a pretend trip, nearly landing between those spread legs of hers. Her spaghetti legs could never cross together in a way that hid her, always exposed, Violet's pink flower inches from his face; her bare and hairless slit looking as virginal as their first time together.  

He climbed up her thin and pale frame, his face landing in the cradle of her shoulder. "ARR ARR ARR" He nibbled her neck, the sound of sputtering half giggles and calls for his name and him to stop emitting from her. He did, as he pushed himself up and stared down, looking at the way her raven hair octopussed out. Her bottom lip stuck out more than the top, a quiver to it, two teeth obscured.

"I love you." Her large eyes sparkled, her hands meekly reaching, wanting to pull him down.

He allowed himself to be taken into her, their bodies pressed tightly, as her visible rib cage prodded him - her heart absolutely racing and like it could jump through at any moment. "I love you, Violet." She was like virgin snow... his snow... and together, they'd match perfectly together at the hips. 

Her velvet sheathe accepted his sword; her reaction was a wince and long wet eyelashes. Violet exhaled, as she shook her head, agreeing to more of him. Yet it still felt like she was trying to eject him, her nethers like a vice, so it felt like he was forcing himself into her. 

Once he was all the way in, his body began doing less thrusting and more writhing, Violet joining him in his spasms. His inexperience clear, but his love for her was just as obvious. Remembering the mechanics in the heat of the moment, he retracted himself, before starting a volley of humps. Violet bit down into her lower lip, her arms on his shoulders, the bones of her heels digging into his lower back, as if she were a cowgirl using spurs to giddy up her favorite animal.

He loved being Violet's favorite animal.

Then the two most dreaded words he knew were uttered from her soft lips. "Pull out." He pretended he didn't hear her, wanting it to seem like he was in the moment -- but when she said it again, he reluctantly did so. Sitting up, he watched Violet reposition, scooching up to him, her knees splayed wide, almost bow legged. Her doll-like and twinkly toes curled at the base of his length, her face scrunched, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth, looking like she held his erection up with just the balls of her small feet as she applied subtle strokes, and he rocked back into them, not the least bit nervous as the heels of her feet were too petite to do any serious damage, the control of her soles at an expert level now - it was kind of embarrassing to be screwing her like this, and he wanted to just throw her down and-

No. His rational side told him this made sense.

As he looked up to the roof, he burst, relieving himself onto Violet, going from a pour to a drizzle, having been backed up this whole week. Gobs of it landed in pools on her abdomen, which she traced around on her stomach, playing with it. "That's where you want it to go, don't you?" She said while pointing below her tummys button and where he presumed they came from.

"I do, but don't worry: I get it." He said in a mocking tone, which just belied his frustration, while the devil on his shoulder was begging him to impregnate Violet. 'Just do it. What's the worst that could happen?' Or thinking up ways on how to trick Violet into letting him -- but as his brain heat regulated, all that noise in his head began to mute, and as he watched Violet clean herself off with kleenex, noting how careful she was with the stained sheet and its promixity to her pubis, he knew it was the right choice.

He fell at her side, his limpness wiping on her porcelain leg as they snuggled. His eye fell to the frosted window, snow crawling down from the sky. "Baby, it's cold outside..."

She shifted, moving from his chest with closed eyes, now resting her ear on his shoulder. "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..." Her voice drifting lower and lower.

They both looked about ready to sleep.

The front door slammed shut. 

In an instant, they both were on the edge of the bed looking at one another, fearful of being caught redhanded. "I have an idea." She ghosted in front of him, and he nearly fell over reaching for her while calling her name in whispers that grew louder as the door to the room slipped open, enough space for her to get through. He picked up his clothes and began dressing, swearing lightly about it.

Stepping out, he realised he put on the sweater backwards, and brought his arms in to rotate it around himself. He did a last minute check as he wandered over to the railing with the feeling that he was a dead man walking.

Bob. Looked. Furious. "Violet! VIOLET!!" He shouted up and past him, looking like he was about to pop a blood vessel, expecting her to emerge from behind him as if by magic.

"Dad, what are you yelling about?" Violet sounding indignant about her fathers anger.

"Ew, gross." Dash covered his eyes looking towards the kitchen area.

He leaned over the bannister, now seeing Violet near the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a pink towel and a body length blue one wrapped around her entire middle.

===================

Sat in front of a crackling fire, Helen watched over them, unable to join in, as she always had whatshisname... Jack Jack, with her, except when she would sometimes check on the food, and she'd leave him to Violet... who didn't look all that bad holding a kid. Helen always had a general lightness to her mood, her barefoot bobbing along to the music from the radio, as they threaded popcorn together for tree decorations. He would sometimes snap the popcorn in two trying to do it, and once when he was about to throw in the towel, Helen offered him an 'aw' and passed him another piece, which made him feel like he had to do more.

Dinner was ready, and after the prayer, they ate; listening and laughing to a record Vi's dad put on about Yogi Bear meeting the Three Stooges. As he stuffed himself silly on the mashed potatoes, he watched Helen over the serving of candied yams while she was hyper focused on her son, feeding him or making faces, an attentive motherly glow that he wished... no, he wasn't jealous. What would he have to be jealous about? In that split second thought, their eyes met for a moment, but barely acknowledging one another. The muscles in his jaw became taut before she asked him if he wanted some stuffing. 

Which was great. His mom could cook, but... nothing like this. Mrs. Parr was a different class of woman, and he hoped Violet was learning some of it.

It wasn't just the food though, but the atmosphere. He wasn't part of the family; he could sense that in certain things they did or said or the stories told, but... he was happy to be here. Unlike most of his friends parents, they didn't smoke and used clean language. He felt like he was on the inside of a Sears catalog, and now knowing that this wasn't just made up to sell things, that this happened across America, his usual family get togethers were going to be such a downgrades...

By the time they were done eating, he barely had the strength to move the table and fold out his bed from the couch, the metal middle like a weighted eggroll. Violet looked down at him from the gaps of the bannister, the hall to their rooms just behind her, a desperation to it. He could only blow out his face, before collapsing into bed; landing with a thud, the frame nearly unforgiving.

He knew he was dreaming when the thing he was laying on suddenly got comfortable. Strapped to a stainless steel gurney, he thrashed just to see if he could. A blinding light pointed his way, but it filled the room, and then he saw her: Helen... Elastigirl... was in full costume, emerging from the shadows, the light revealing her. She looked freshly polished, seeing a reflection off the black parts of her costume like it was oil. She extended her arms above, using the rafters, now standing above him, her thigh boots making her seem even taller - he wondered what she was thinking, a mischievous intent behind that domino mask.

Then she sat back, like one would on a lazy Sunday and a recliner underneath. The outside underwear she wore became an obsidian sphere hurdling towards him, colliding with neck breaking ferocity. Like he had given up the ghost, he had an out of body experience, seeing that self satisfaction she had on her face while grinding down into his face, his body looking lifeless. It was then he wondered if this was truly a dream. He had tasted this. He had smelled this -- and it felt so real again.

He awoke early to the smell of something sweet and baking, tossing off his blanket. 

He stood behind a counter, looking in on her. He remembered when the kitchen looked and felt barren, and now it was hers. There was an aura she created when she was in it. She opened the kitchen stove, and he experienced the feeling of heat that came with it from where he was standing. He was about to walk off and brush his teeth, when she finally noticed him. "Oh, honey, I hope I didn't wake you. I was just making cookies." She conducted her oven mitt like a puppet on public access. "Do you want to try one?"

With a slouch, he ambled over to her, and seeing the silver tray filled with chippy brown goodness sitting atop parchment paper made him reach for one.

Her teeth grit, sounding confused with his actions. "Honey, you gotta let them cool first."

"It's okay, I like 'em that way." The gooey treat fell to pieces from finger to finger, leaving traces of it everywhere. "So messy, but so good." 

"Oh. You got a little something here..." She brought up her white apron to his face, he pulled away a little in embarrassment and on instinct because of who it was, saying he could do it himself, but he eventually let her as she lowered down to one knee. He still had trouble looking her in the eye as she scrubbed his face, catching her tight mouthed determination, and as she began guiding his jaw, reminding him of how she treated Jack Jack, he let his guard down. 

That's when she clasped his face, a similar look of longing that she had given him when she was under the influence on that mother's day, before she enveloped him in a passionate kiss - but there was no smell or taste of alcohol to blame here. 

He froze up, unsure of what to do. His eyes stayed open the whole time, while Helen's stayed closed, the sound of an appreciative 'mmmmm' reverberated from her mouth and into his.

"Mmmmwah." He stood in a stupor, as Helen shooed him away, telling him to wash up. He listlessly followed her request.

Hand on the knob, he felt another presence. "Bob, could you look after Jack Jack? I'm about to start breakfast soon."

"Sure, hun." He flipped.

"How did I ever live without you?" Instead of a kiss, Helen just carressed a hand on the side of her former husband's face before letting him walk away.

His breath locked as if a black cat just crossed his path, the large father passing by, going back to where he came from. He clutched his chest near the bathroom door, watching Helen bring out the bacon from the sink as he felt his face.

There wasn't chocolate on his lip anymore.

===================

He sat, reading a book called Darker Than Amber. It was a bit simpler than what he usually read at school, but it was a real page turner. Especially without TV. Not that they played shows after eleven PM...

But he was engaging in fiction for more than just entertainment, he was waiting. Planning.

Yesterday, he screwed up bad. Ate too much, and that turkey kicked him to sleep. Not today. They had leftovers from the day before, but he made sure to leave as much as he could on his plate. Violet was going to get a visit on his last night there. He just needed to figure out when...

There were thumping steps.

"Up late?" It was a simple question.

He held the book by the spine and showed Bob the cover, then tipped the book to the cabinet. "Oh uhm, just reading from your collection, sir." 

"Hey kid. C'mere." He pointed to the fridge as he let it close behind himself. "Get yourself a soda and drink with me."

"Uh, that's okay sir. I should be in bed anyway." He motioned for the lamp.

"I wasn't asking." He wanted to retreat like a turtle into his shell. He placed the book onto his pillow, its place marked, as he got up and then sat down awkwardly across from Violet's old man. "You were supposed 'ta..." Bob made a move to the fridge, then sat back down, throwing it off with a wave of his hand brushing it off, a little irritated.

"Sir, are you gonna tear my head off?" Literally or not, he wasn't sure when he said it.

His voice was dry. "No, no. I wouldn't want to wake anyone." He took a sip of his beer. "Today's your last day here. In the morning, you'll be out of my hair. So any last minute plans you had of paying my daughter a midnight visit--you're gonna have to put them on hold."

"Excuse me, sir?"

The room shook as Bob stood over the table, his hand down after he had smacked the surface, jump starting him in his seat. "Enough with that sir crap. Believe me, I was your age once; I know the tricks. I know ALL the tricks." He sat back down, rubbing his hand through his scalp and remaining hair. "I don't know where my wife gets the idea to bring you along." He murmured. "She said you needed a positive role model in your life, and it looks to me like you don't need it, seeing as you're trying to screw my daughter and all. Now, I don't know what you did with Violet while we were away - and don't give me some bullspit excuses, because believe me, I'd hate you more if you did - but if I catch even an ear, a hint, a whiff, of what you've done--being out in the snow will be the least of your worries." Bob had the intensity of McQueen, while he felt like the bug eyed guy in The Ghost and Mr. Chicken. "Got it?"

He nervously laughed, but the look on Bob's face made him stop dead in his tracks, clearing his throat now instead. "Loud and clear, big guy." As Bob left him, he sat for awhile, only the sound of fading steps breaking the monotony of his quiet staring at the now empty seat. He didn't know what a hernia was, but he felt like he had one, doubled over the side of the table, looking like he wanted to vomit. He was shaking like a leaf as he made his way back to his bed

Why did he come here? Having dreams about Violet would be better than the real thing right now... okay, maybe not, but he really didn't need this right now. It was just a couple weeks without Violet. He pantomimed his dads smoking, rubbing his eyes fiercely, stopping only when he felt them start to turn red.

He sighed, laying down. What a day... the night came in dark blue, almost purple, through the kitchen knife shaped windows, as he shut the book closed and pushed it away, no longer wanting to read. 

He shut his eyes.

As things calmed down, he realised at least one day with Violet was better than nothing. She'd be gone for so long... how could he live without her? He would call her when he could, though he'd hang up if her dad ever picked up. 

As he thought about things to talk about with Violet, he was sure he'd fall asleep soon - but instead, he tossed and turned, unable to. Frustrated, his lids opened again - but the dark blue light was muted, shadowed... something... above him.

When he realised what it was, it was too late. He felt like a crash test dummy, his neck cranking. He was surprised she didn't crush his head like a pumpkin being hit by a car. His gasp became vacuum sealed. "MhMeMlMeMnMF" Her name came out in a muffle, her ass pressed so firmly against his lip and tongue that he could taste her skin through her underwear, a tarty ripeness to it.

"When you relax and stay quiet, I'll move." The snide mumble of her familiar accent came, reconfirming who she was, as he struggled and fought, scared to death, a smell overpowering his senses, his legs kicking out, arms and hands struggling over her body, slapping or rubbing her ass or thighs.

There was a moment he got out of it, and she must have heard his inhale, as she pulled on his hair, flattening him out, as she brought her ass back down again, readjusting her position, this time sure he couldn't escape.

He gave in to her demands, his chest slowly rising and falling, but everytime he breathed, he smelled her, and the moistness in his breath had nowhere to go except on his face, which magnified the scents. He imagined the look on her face like the one in his dream - but why? What did she see in this? 

Helen moved, and he shot up, the warm perspiration ran cold as soon as she left him, his hair matted to parts of his face, and she still lingered in his nose. He looked and felt like a delirious drunkard.

Looking like she had done nothing wrong, the straps of her baby blue nightie had been pulled down from her soft looking shoulder tops, revealing her heavy and fickle cleavage, the white frills reminding him of a curtain, wrists resting on her large thighs, hands between them. "You've been avoiding me." Her stern voice accusatory.

"Helen... Mrs. Parr." He made sure to emphasize the Mrs. part. "I... love your daughter. I hope you understand why we can't do this." His hand sliced through the air. "Now please go back to your husband."

Her mouth clicked. "Tch. Is that how you really feel?"

"Yes." He was curt, and said it with enthusiasm, leaving no mistake as to his intentions.

She pounced at him. 

Landing on the edge of where his feet sometimes hung, she looked like a cat about ready to reach into the fish bowl. "Bob can fuck like a mack truck, but with you..." She brushed parts of his hair out of his face. "That's not what I'm after." She gripped him through his pajama flap. "And I don't think you're after my scrawny daughter, either." As if to prove her point, she raised his flag; making sure the pole was set with a slide of her fist.

Letting him go, she stood up on the mattress, looking like a giant in the room, a venus statue of sex, as her arms crisscrossed at the hem of her sleepwear, lifting it; her tits flopped free. 

Now in just her knickers, her slight belly pudge hedging over some of the elastic, he could see her brown forest through the translucent, silky material. She bent over, her movements athletic and smooth, her mature skin becoming taut as her breasts dangled, as she cast off her panties somewhere into the dark. Helen now squatted over him, her middle finger running an inch back and forth, never going knuckle deep, making it slickened by the pink flesh, her index finger running past the coarse looking patches of thatched hair, a lurid display of her labia. "How does it compare to Violets?" If Violet was a slice of pie, Helen was the whole thing - her mound just as intimidating as her ass, unsure which one would be worse to be under... or better.

She turned her back to him, crouching above his middle, her hair peaking from between her legs. As he laid back, prepared, Helen engulfed him entirely as she sat in his lap, and his palms didn't have to go far to try and guide her, her plump and juicy ass facing his way, but even as he tried to wring them, it was hopeless, he had no control as she began to ascend and descend of her own accord; Helen leaned over and their eyes locked, looking at him with a knowing smirk as she knowingly made their skins thwack together. On one hand, it was a little disconcerting, but on the other, he had every favorite part of her in his view, admiring her flexing asshole, the pink color contrasting well with the rest of her body tone. When he first tongued her pucker, he wasn't sure if it was gross or not - now he knew, and he wanted her to sit on his face again, this time without underwear.

Even though he didn't have to, he began pistoning into this chunky, hairy, middle aged woman, like he had gained years of experience of sex under his belt, almost wanting to impress her; meaty whacks resounding throughout the cabin as her cheeks clapped with every bounce of her body. "You're gonna have to come visit me, and forget about Violet. I won't allow you two to be together when I have your baby inside me." What? "You'll have to come over and see your child. You'll have to raise them right." He slowed gradually. "You'll have to drop out of school and get a job to support me." He had imagined doing that for Violet, but his heart sank picturing himself doing that for Helen. "You'll have to accept responsibility, all while I keep it a secret from Bob. Are you ready for all that?" Her thick thighs became even heavier in his mind, unable to push her away, her hips landing against him with debilitating impact.

"N-n-nuh... no?" His high pitch made him sound pathetic, but he was absolutely terrified - so why was the rest of him so willing? Despite the threats, he kept up his pace, as the bed sounded and felt like it break at any moment, squeaking and creaking. "Hngh, hngh, hngh..." He whimpered out as he sat up to wrap his arms around her, yet unable to fully grasp her middle - like he had shrunk in size. His hands made an x, as he took hold of each of her swinging mammaries and prepared to unleash himself into her depths. 

He heard her suck air through her teeth. "OooOooOoooh..." Her excited, throaty, hoarse, moan ending in a vocal fry, doing everything in her power to keep quiet, despite the fluttering squeezes from her folds. He came as she orgasmed, and she cradled his head with her palm. "That's right, cum into mommy..." He gave two weak humps into her before finally resting against her shoulder blade, exhausted yet not sweaty, as he only then realised the mistake he made. Being with Violet felt natural. Like they were meant to be. Yet being with the mother of his girlfriend fulfilled a dirty, animalistic desire, as she looked down on him from not only a height perspective, but her stature as an adult woman; while in her care, she wasn't supposed to see him as anything more than just a child - she was supposed to be responsible for him. Not to mention, what if Violet had seen them? There's only so many times 'she forced me to!' was a believable excuse. There was a lot both of them risked to be conjoined like this - but he still wasn't sure if it's what he really wanted.

Drained, he fell out of her naturally. On his back, he watched Helen climb off the bed, hand held over her crotch as her ass jiggled all the way to the bathroom, the light coming on and creeping out from it. 

When she was done, she came back and kissed his forehead. "Sleep tight." Tucking him in, she slathered that finger that had been inside her over his dry lips. "And don't let the bedbugs bite."

===================

It was time to say goodbye. Bob was dead tired and Dash couldn't find a reason to care. It was as chilled a response as the weather. His and Violet's departure barely acknowledging a meeting, his left hand barely rising above his pants pocket, before he turned, a bit more confident as he began walking away. He got in, and they nodded to one another, as Helen gave a wave to her family, the other hand on the wheel. 

Once they were past the treeline, Helen stopped the car and they got out; stripping from their winter gear and throwing them into the back seat, wearing something you could call street clothes, the bitter cold nipping him as he pulled on the frostbite of the door handle again, plopping himself back in, the quick cold to warmth waking him up.

She put it into park, and there was a click, as Helen threw back her seat belt with violent disregard, the thing looking like it had enough power to chip the window if it had landed, her movements like a slow moving liquid pouring his way, predatory eyes low, and he was well past the point of pretending anymore. He sat back like a king, as he heard her unzip his pants. Her index fingers and thumbs met together, making an upside down diamond shape, as the slurps and suckles began. Despite the cold of the seat beneath him, the breathy warmth that radiated from Mrs. Parr's hungry mouth kept it up, the back of his neck rolling slack into the plastic feeling head rest, almost so ticklish to the point where he almost had to push her off, but held steadfast, as she knew what she was doing, as it felt like his tip was going to disappear forever everytime she swirled her tongue around the bend.

He fumbled around her back, getting a feel for her ass, squeezing and squishing the flesh of her ass through her pants, before giving each side a smack that she didn't even register, hyper focused on her upcoming morning meal.

As she planted her lips around the base of his erection, he clamped onto her stiff, copper colored and hairsprayed hair as he came into her throat.

Leaving no trace, Helen sat up, adjusting out of place strands and wiping her chin, a firm hand still in his lap, staring down deeply, intimating for a kiss, but his lingering smell made him recoil, his lips hiding, head down, but her soft touch tilted him back, stealing a kiss, a sloppy liplock, pushing her tongue and spit down his throat.

===================

"I'll get it mom!" He yelled, nearly sliding to the door on his socks. It was everything he hoped and prayed for. "Hey Vi."

"Hey you. Merry Christmas." Violet closed the gap, as they exchanged their standard smooches on one anothers faces. With that out of the way, his attention now turned to the thin square wrapped in holiday cheer pressed to her side.

"Are we doing the gift exchanges now? I got you something, don't worry. Saved up my allowance and everything."

"No, it's from..." She gripped it, holding it in front of her face, before dropping it, then finally relinquishing it to him. "You know who wanted me to give this to you. It's technically from the family, but it's technically, mainly, from her." His name was all in pretty curves. It reminded him of Violet's writing.

"It sucks that we didn't get to spend Christmas eve together like last time." He gestured with the present back into the house. "Mom wanted us to do it together this year. You know, see the family and do the standard under the tree thing."

"Yeah, and dad made it real clear what he thought of you." She pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed. "Had so many arguments with him about you."

He stepped aside. "You wanna come in? Mom would love to see ya."

Violet thought about it, but shook her head. "No, I'm not even supposed to be here."

"Okay. Let me get my coat and I'll walk you home."

She shrugged. "No... dad might see you."

"Y'sure?" She nodded her head once, then started running. On the cement path, she waved to him. He moved to do it as well, but she wasn't even looking his way now. He leaned out the door from the inside, watching Violet get smaller and smaller. He pressed his left sock into the snow, already feeling it start to melt, before she was totally obscured by other homes.

He let the outside door close as he stood in the frame, an onomatopoeia of rips and tears followed. 

It was a family photo - the kind you got at the mall - but it was a nice looking one - nobody making faces, standing in front of a painted background of lush, green pine trees, all of them in Christmas colored sweaters, and sat in the middle of everyone was Helen on a chair, bouncing two baby boys on each knee, one older than the other.

A new addition to their family, a son just as blond as Bob. 

He felt relieved.

There was no way what he did would ever get back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ideas and discussion on various channels are the only reasons why chapter 2 exists. Is a chapter 3 possible? Let me know in the comments.


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